Page 127 of The Girlfriend Card
But I refused to move.
“We’re not going up there.” I pointed at the locker room floor. “Tell Sal he needs to come down here if he wants to talk.”
Alarmed, Killer’s eyes widened. “I can’t tell Mr. Capuano something like that. If you don’t come to him—”
“If he doesn’t come tous,then the three of us go out there and tell the media everything,” I said. “Tell him I said that.”
“Oh, Lord.” Killer grumbled. “Why are you doin’ this to us, Dak?”
“Because I’m sick of all the lies. That’s what got me into this mess, isn’t it? Not being honest? Well, I’m done with that—I want to be open about everything from now on, Killer.Everything.So let’s get the truth out there for everyone to hear. I want the boys to know who exactly they’re playing for. They should know.”
“Alright, kid. I can see you mean business,” Killer said with a sneaking grin.
He quickly slipped through the door, the media barraging him with questions as he escaped.
And I turned to face my teammates, who had questions of their own.
“You wanna tell us what the fuck’s going on, Dak?” Rust asked.
I sighed. “It’s a long story and I’m not sure how much you’re going to hear. But, boys, I came here because we need your help. The more people who hear this, the better.”
They listened intently as I tried to give them the Cliff’s Notes summary of everything that had transpired this summer, and the predicament we found ourselves in.
I didn’t spill Leo’s secret—like Ottavia had said, it was his story to tell—I only told the boys that the two had dated when they were younger, but it hadn’t worked out. But The Godfather dangled Ottavia’s trust fund over her head, insisting she marry Leo for political reasons.
The boys were both flabbergasted and outraged:
“Arranged marriage?”
“What fucking year are we living in here?”
Encouraged by their support, Ottavia spoke up. “Which is why it’s so wrong to make it look like I’m ‘cheating’ on Leo in the media. It’s so awful and hurtful what people are saying about me.And it’s so isolating, too, because none of it is even true. I just want to live a normal life and make myowndecisions, like who I’m allowed to love or marry.”
The boys clenched their jaws and muttered swear words, their anger rising.
As if all that wasn’t damning enough, I told them about how Sal had followed me all summer long and paid girls to try to get me to sleep with them, only to have his henchman filming the whole thing.
“Dude, he didwhat?”
“Godfather’s a fucking psycho, bro.”
“Who’s to say he’s not following all of us around right now? Filming us? Just in case?”
Then it was time to put the cherry on top. “Boys, he threatened to sit me out for the duration of my contract if I don’t cut all contact with Ottavia.”
After I told them that, it was like a bomb went off in the room:
“HE SAID WHAT?!”
“HE WANTS TO SIT YOU OUT FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS?!”
I nodded, adding, “Yep. While I sit on the couch at home and get fat on ice cream.”
“OH HELL NO.”
The boys shook their heads, gnashed their teeth, and a couple guys even punched their stalls in a burst of rage. If you ever want to piss off a room of pro athletes, all you gotta do is tell them about how management is conspiring to fuck with their money or their careers.
Despite the noise in the room, there was another commotion going on outside these doors—the media members shouting over each other,“Mr. Capuano! Mr. Capuano!”
